


A little intellectual conversation - epilogue

by angoraphobe (endreal)



Category: 8-Bit Theater, Final Fantasy, Nuklear Power
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-31
Updated: 2012-12-31
Packaged: 2017-11-23 01:35:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/616609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/endreal/pseuds/angoraphobe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fighter and the town guardsman of Corneria continue their conversation...and more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A little intellectual conversation - epilogue

Inspired, unapologetically, by [this strip](http://www.nuklearpower.com/2001/04/12/episode-015-a-little-intellectual-conversation/)

The city guardsman fought a blush, as he tried not to think about what was to come. With trembling fingers, he tightened and fumblingly refastened his baldric - not over his shoulder, but through the back of his uniform shirt, bunching the heavy, reinforced cloth around his ribs. The guard ran nervous fingers absently across his stomach, flattened by years of hard labor on his parents’ farm (peace be upon them) during youth, and hardened by the intense physical regimen that the guard must adhere to.

His trousers, also of the same heavy red fabric, and reinforced with brass grommets and leather patches embossed with the sigils of the kingdom and the proud city guard, lay neatly folded on the night table next to him, and his well-polished dress boots were rest on the floor beneath.

He had desired this tryst with the mysterious stranger since first their eyes met. First, he had been enthralled with the stranger’s prowess at arms - watching from a distance, unable to leave his post at the city gates - as he singlehandedly dispatched a half-dozen monstrous fiends in defense of his robed companion. The guard was nervous as the duo then made their way toward the city gate; who knew if they were friendly? If the warrior was skilled enough to cut down the besieging mob, what chance did he stand against the duo, even with his military training in spear and shield? It was a great relief when he saw that the warrior’s strong arm was accompanied by an easy smile and compassionate eyes. They had chatted then, at some length, and the guard had made a powerful effort not to make a fool of himself in front of his new infatuation.

And he got goosebumps on the back of his neck at the thought that perhaps he had done well in that effort. Or perhaps the goosebumps were raised by the feeling of the warrior’s breath playing gently across his skin as slow, warm kisses - their sensation heightened by the brush of stubble, several days old - were trailed along his shoulders, just above the collar of his lashed uniform.

The guard felt arms reach around him, fingers fanning against his stomach, reaching higher to caress his chest, lightly tease and twist his nipples. Then those same hands reached downward, gripping him by the hips - squeezing lightly as if in reassurance - before continuing downward, stroking his thighs from hip to knee, and slowly meandering back up toward his hips.

The guard sighed quietly as he felt the fighter’s hands exploring his body, fingertips tracing back upward along his inner thigh, then caressing and massaging his knackers. The sigh trailed into silence as he then felt the other man press against him, and he felt the fighter’s heat and stiffness pressed against his buttocks. He could see nothing from his position face-forward and leaning against the wall, but the fighter felt thick. Any speculation was soon driven from the guard’s mind, however, as he felt Fighter’s hands move to his cock.

Fingertips, at first. In spite of himself the guard shivered and swelled as Fighter traced his fingertips along the shaft of his yearning cock. Lightly trailing up one side, along the head, and then back down the other. Then with both hands, caressing left and right at once, and lightly squeezing the head at the apex. A glistening strand of precum strung away on his fingertips as Fighter traced back down to the guard’s base. Then, lacing his fingers together around the man’s cock, he began to stroke in long, slow motions, wrapping his hands with just enough pressure so the guard could feel the contours of each finger as it traveled along his length.

In time, Fighter began to rock his hips, his own member sliding between the guard’s buttocks, prodding gently against his perineum. Though feeling himself grow more and more flushed, Fighter did not change his pace or pressure - countless years of training had taught him discipline over his own body and desires. The guard, however, was not so well-versed in such practices of discipline. He thrust his hips backward, spread his legs, silently begged Fighter for that which they both wanted.

Slowly, gingerly, Fighter entered the other man, fraction by fraction impaling the guard with his hot, hard cock until his hips were flush against the guard’s firm ass, until he had thrust completely to the hilt. The guard moaned out loud.

_“W,welcome to Corneria.”_

_“I like…I like swords.”_


End file.
